


The Shadow of His Smile

by DixieDale



Series: The Life and Times of One Peter Newkirk [51]
Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Hogan's Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-18 22:36:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Mischief from Duggan leads to a cold, miserable day for Peter and Andrew, and has Peter threatening the ram with "Maudie makes a fine mutton stew, you know, you bloody git!"   Meanwhile Maudie is thinking back to the most recent use Peter had made of his 'magic fingers', and appreciating the bustle surrounding her.  As Caeide ends her day, she takes note of that smile on Peter's face; he'd once worn that smile only on rare occasions, and then never let it show on his face, only at the back of his eyes.  Back then, she'd even written her cousin Cally that "it would be a worthy quest, a quest of a lifetime, to bring that smile to sit fully upon his face."  Now, she knew it was time to send another letter to Cally, letting her know that quest had been won.





	The Shadow of His Smile

{"Bloody 'ell, I'm cold! I'm cold, I'm wet, I'm 'ungry, my joints ache like thunder, I'm so tired I can 'ardly keep on this bloody 'orse! And where in bloody 'ell is Andrew??!"}

Obviously Peter was not in a good frame of mind. Duggan had gotten out and taken a good dozen of the ewes with him, the new golden ones from the southern enclave who'd not had time to acclimate to this harsher weather, and he and Andrew had spent the entire time since the discovery hunting them down, catching them, getting them back to the closest stock barn and closing them in against the ice and rain.

All of the ewes were safely tucked away, and Peter was well of a mind for the two of them to head back home and get warm, get some dinner and just let that blasted ram freeze HIS bloody balls off instead of the two of THEM, but now Andrew had gotten out of sight, and not answering when Peter called for him.

{"Probably saw a mouse that needed rescuing,"} he thought with amused disgust, remembering the last time Andrew had pulled a bunk, only to come in scratched to pieces because he'd decided to 'rescue' a barn cat who'd felt she was just fine where she was, thank you very much, and hadn't appreciated his interference, and not hesitant about showing it either. Well, in all justice, from the cat's point of view, she'd waited on that high, narrow ledge for a good hour or more, waiting for that mouse to stick his nose out, then that interferring human had spoiled everything!

But, no, there he was now, and of all things, had that pesky Duggan by a rope, leading him in.

"Thought I'd lost you there, Andrew," he said in some relief. No, he didn't want to be out in this mess, but he wasn't about to leave Andrew out here alone.

"He was sidling around the back, I think trying to find a way to let them back out again!"

Peter snorted, "sounds like the bloody beast, now don't it! Well, come along, let's get 'im down to the shed back a the 'orse barn; that way if 'e does find a way out, 'e's less likely to take the whole bloomin lot with 'im!"

Duggan had engineered escapes that would have the Big Brown Eagle jealous, or so Peter and Andrew had told Caeide.

"Wouldn't be surprised if the woolly bastard didn't start picking locks next!" Peter had said not so long ago, only to find the padlock on the far pasture sprung a few weeks later, telltale wide toothmarks showing how someone had applied pressure in just the right spot to click it open! Peter was getting just a bit hesitant about making his predictions about the 'woolly git' out loud after that!

Caeide had suggested a children's book, based on Duggan and his adventures, with Peter doing the illustrations, and they just might do that one of these days. The one they'd done about Andrew's old pet, Felix the Mouse had gone over well, and added a nice bit of funds to the enclave shares, and the one about Angie and her mystery love, who turned out to be rather a creature of legend, wings and all, had worked its way into a nice book for the young adult set.

{"That was a lot of fun, with all of us working on the stories, and Peter, well, his drawings were really great! So he could only work on them on the days his hands were really doing good, but it's not like we were in any hurry."}

They checked the latches on the stock barn, front and back, one last time, hooking even the top ones that could only be reached from horseback, just to be sure, making sure there was enough water in the tank for the newest arrivals, mounted up and headed for home.

"Come along, ya bloody git! I swear, one of these days, mutton stew, and right tasty it should be too! Maudie makes a nice one, ya know, full of onions and turnips and carrots and such, good thick gravy, big fat dumplings on top and all."

Andrew grinned over at Peter as he grumbled out loud, knowing that wasn't likely to happen, no matter how exasperating they all found the big ram at times. He just had a personality you couldn't help but admire, even when he drove them mad. The ram was getting on in years, no longer a reliable breeder, and they knew they'd miss him when he was gone, but that would be in the fullness of time; he had earned a secure retirement, though they'd prefer he stop trying to drive them bonkers while he enjoyed that retirement!

{"Listening to all that, I'd say he's more hungry than mad, anyway, us missing lunch and now dinner going to be late!"}

"Caeide'll be worried, it's been dark a full hour now, and closer to two before we walk in the door," Andrew said, knowing it couldn't have been helped, but hating to cause her any more turmoil than she had going right now. Ordinarily she'd have been out there with them, searching for Duggan, or even doing it alone, if it had just been the ram, the stock being her particular area of responsibility; with the ewes involved, it would take more than one person, if more than one was available, and usually it would have been Andrew to help her, with Marisol not being that good with the horses, and Maude obviously not being up for that sort of thing, and Caeide not liking to send Peter out into the freezing wet weather. The cold just affected Peter more than the others, seized up his joints to where he could hardly use his hands or move in any comfort, and just as like to bring on that respiratory problem of his, his lungs never being strong, and they tried to split the duties so that the rangy Brit didn't have to be out in it more than necessary. But Caeide, well, she was kinda occupied back at the house right now. Andew snorted gently to himself, with a grin. {"Yeah, even with Maude and Mari there, I'd say she's occupied!"}

Back at the house, Maude and Marisol were thinking much the same, looking around with amusement and satisfaction. Jamie and Louisa were five now, and of an age to be of help, growing up Clan-fast, Clan-smart; they were busy with the setting of the big kitchen table for their evening meal, and setting the smaller things out at the ready, at Maude's direction and with her watchful guidance. But that left Karl and Kat, just a bit past two, running around and trying to get into everything, learning quickly and trying to help, but just not big enough to do anything more than small things, and in danger of being tripped over; they'd now been put out of traffic's way at the high table in the corner, set in place just for that purpose, eagerly folding napkins and snapping the beans for tomorrow's meal and other tasks their small hands could be set to safely, happy as always to be part of the activity. And Liam and Morgana, well, at two months old and not mobile yet, they still took a goodly amount of attention.

Sometimes they'd all find themselves just standing over those two cradles, looking, smiling, so relieved that these two and Caeide were doing so well now. She'd had a bit of trouble with these two, and was taking a while longer than usual getting back up to full speed. She'd told Maude and Marisol that she thought they might wait a bit before trying this again, and they had looked at each other, snorted and laughed together, her right along with them.

{"Well, it wasn't as if these were specifically planned, any more than the first or second set of twins had been! Planned or not, they'll all been welcomed with joy and love, and I quite imagine there'll be more coming along. Though, for her sake, it might be best if there is a bit more of a gap, three years from the first set to the second, then only two years to this last, especially with it being twins each time, at least so far. Well, we'll see; can't see me setting them down to explain what causes it, or that doing any good even if I did!"}, the thought making her chuckle to herself.

Old Reverend Miles had stayed with them when her time was upon her, Maudie having called for his help. Oh, not with Caeide, but with the guys, trying to keep them settled down and out of her hair. Maude thought to herself, {"if either one had poked his head in that door one more time 'just to see if anything's happened yet', I'd have been tempted to give them a good thump on top of that head! It's not as if we were all having a quiet cup of tea in there, for pity's sake, dilly dallying and gossiping! Good idea it was, ringing the Reverend, asking him to come along and bide for awhile. At least he was able to head them off if they made their way back toward the stairs after I chased them down that last time!"}

In the end, though, she'd been obliged to send Marisol to fetch Peter, him and his clever fingers, though she thought he just might faint when she told him what was required of him!

"Peter, pull yourself together, man! You do this all the time for the stock when they need it!"

He'd looked at her, appalled, his jaw dropping, and Andrew had gulped, wide eyed, him trailing after Peter unnoticed, along with the Reverend. "Bloody 'ell, Maudie! Ain't the same thing, and you know that full well!"

"Maybeso Peter, my lad, but she needs your help, and you're the one with the clever fingers, so, wash up and let's get to it! It's doing her no good to delay, she's been at this too long now, and my hands are too old and gnarled to even try, unless there was no other way!"

And, pale and shaky, with eyes far too wide himself, he'd done his magic, and turned the first one, that being a boy, so he could pass through, sliding without hesitation into Peter's hands, followed in rapid succession by his twin sister, who seemed the impatient sort and had just been waiting for her brother to get out of the way! The women moved to take the newest members of the family, to do what needed to be done, and the Reverend then took the two men to get Peter washed up, sat him down to where he could get his breathing somewhat back to normal, him sitting there staring at his hands as if he couldn't believe what those clever fingers, even with the knots and ridges, had just done, tears starting to move slowly down his face, matched only by those on Andrew's face, and fed them all a healthy jolt of good whiskey while Maude and Marisol took care of Caeide and the two babes. 

"Well, what do you think? She's Clan, for sure, look at that red hair, and a full head of it even now!" The girls all looked like Caeide, red hair, brown eyes, fairest of skin, later with a sprinkle of freckles. The boys, well, Jamie was the spitting image of Peter, with those so changeable eyes, now blue, now blue-green, and that disarming smile as to melt the heart, and Karl, as like Andrew as any could be, same sweet smile and brown eyes in that slightly narrow face.

"I think this one will be like to Andrew again, brown eyes already, though so many babes start with blue and then them turning, though perhaps his hair a bit darker than Andrew's. Well, now the villagers will have even more to tittle tattle about, not that they'd dare, not anymore!" Marisol chuckled. 

Jamie's looks had been no surprise to any one, but Karl? Well, once he'd grown out the ambiguity of babyhood and into his looks, and was seen out and about more, well, he'd pretty well put paid to any not noticing the family up at Haven was a bit out of the ordinary. There'd been a bit of talk, which the old Reverend had taken care of neatly, bless him, reminding them of Haven's position and history and having their own ways, and making note of which side their collective bread was buttered on, with a brief and rather crisp mention of the peppery nature of the mistress of Haven. His own solid non-judgmental acceptance of the situation, his obvious fondness for those up at Haven, that had counted for a lot as well, each of those in the village and surrounding area having experienced the support and help given by him, and, as most admitted, by Haven over the years. The new Reverend had been gladly welcoming of the babes, each of them, made no adverse comments, other than a stern reminder from the pulpit against gossiping, and a bit about each having enough of their own business to mind without minding anyone else's.

All had stepped back, except for old man Morleigh and his bitchy wife, who'd still thought to put in their two cents worth, especially with Caeide starting to show again. Then Caeide, having no patience at all for their nonsense, had taken their two cents and cashed it in for them, and given them change, the upshot being that the Morleighs had decided to put their small house in the village up for sale and move down to Dunleath to be closer to their children and grandchildren as they'd been saying they wanted to do for the past year or so. They'd tried to peddle their gossiping mischief about Haven down there, but Clan presence was strong enough there, enough depending on the Clan's good will, that their children, obviously much smarter than the parents, had sat them down and had a good long talk with them, and they'd pulled their nasty tongues back into their mouths and kept their mutterings to themselves, where they still pleased themselves but at least caused no harm to any others.

Marisol still found that to be amusing, her being the one to accompany Caeide on that little visit to the Morleigh household.

"She said it's her sister Meghada who has the nickname of 'Ice Queen', but it would have fit her equally well that day. Head high, that coronet of flaming hair coiled around her head, eyes like to a Norse hell, cold as ice, hard as stone, dressed in Clan fashion that makes her look like I know not what, but impressive as can be and reminding any who'd see her that she was, Haven was, of a thing apart. Told them flat out she'd heard of their questionings and mutterings and musings and comments about the family, the babes at Haven, and she'd made a personal visit to clarify things for them, seeing as how they were so unusually interested in that which was none of their concern. "WE are the parents of those babes, those and any others, WE, Haven, me, Peter, Andrew. We are the family, us three, and the others, Maude, Marisol, with plenty more in the family as well, Clan and Clan-affiliates. If you have any comments, you may, if you are so inclined and so foolhearty, address them to ME. If I ever hear of you addressing them to any other, within the family or without, it's another visit I'll be paying, one I think you'd do best to avoid," all in a voice that promised much, a promise there was no doubt in any mind she would keep. 

She'd arranged for Haven to purchase the small house in the village, quickly and for cash, a fair price even, just to give them no reason to tarry in their move, and it was currently being refurbished for a Clan friend who'd decided to move there, at least temporarily, but not wanting to stay at Haven proper.

Kinch rather thought it would be best that way; he wasn't sure how the villagers would react to him in the first place, though they'd been friendly enough when he visited, but he thought the family dynamic at Haven, while successful, would do better without his constant presence. He admitted to himself that the dynamic still made him slightly uncomfortable, particularly with the intermittant yet ongoing rather-more-than-a-friendship between him and one of those from The Cottages that he still, after all these years didn't understand, and thought his own reticence might start making THEM uncomfortable around HIM.

{"It's not like it's any of my business, and they are happy, all of them, and they're not asking for my approval anyway. And, I don't know anymore which really concerns me, whether I'm uncomfortable with them, or more that I'm NOT really uncomfortable with them."}

"And I'm not sure the gossip chain can stand the added pressure," he'd laughed, though Peter and Caeide and the others had assured him he'd be most welcome at Haven, and Caeide more than equal to dealing with any gossips. Well, he knew that, on both counts, he'd heard the stories and enjoyed them greatly, but figured a little space would probably work best, with Marisol being one of the reasons he'd decided to spend some quality time in the vicinity of Haven. He wanted to see if their mutual attraction and affection was more proximity during his visits or something deeper, and living in the same house wouldn't let them get a good handle on that, he figured.

He wouldn't be staying forever, there just wasn't scope for his talents here, but for now, yes, til he and Marisol figured things out. Part of that would be explaining, well, as best he could, his connection with The Cottages; he'd be reluctant to give that up, and there was a possibility Marisol wouldn't feel it necessary, seeing as she was so comfortable with Peter and Andrew and Caeide, but only time would tell. Meanwhile, he'd set up that new communications system Haven had been wanting, and a few other useful odds and ends.

They'd gotten Caeide, now wan and exhausted, into fresh bedding and a fresh nightgown, laughing with her gently about this being one time she actually would wear the thing, perhaps, even through the entire night! She had a liking for the pretty things, but never seemed to be wearing one when the morning came! Then, handing her the tidied and wrapped babies, only to see her unwrap each, counting fingers and toes, touching the tiny heads with wonder, smiling at each with so much love.

"Can we bring the lads up now?" Marisol asked, with a gentle smile.

"Yes, please, and the Reverend as well, if he's still here; I DID hear his voice, didn't I?"

With her assurances, Marisol went to collect the three, now smelling ever so slightly of whiskey, all wearing similar slightly giddy, slightly anxious looks on their faces. Caeide looked at the three of them from her position on the raised pillows, a babe in each arm.

"Hello, then, are we ready for some introductions?" she asked in a tired but happy voice. "Gentlemen, please meet Morgana Deann and Liam Shjean. Morgana, Liam, this is your Da and your Daddy Andrew, and our dear Reverend Miles."

And wonder filled each of the men's faces, and tears filled the faded blue eyes of the Reverend Morgan Dean Miles, and they each in turn reached out and stroked the soft hair, touched the warm cheeks, and they shared smiles and, after being dismissed for Caeide to get some sleep, went below to share another drink, and a toast was offered up to the two newest additions to Haven. And the thoughts and feelings that possessed the old man as he retired to the warm, snug room they'd provided for him, they were rich and full, and he was glad he'd lived to see this day, being how he'd thought his name, given him to honor his father and grandfather, would die with him, him being the last of his family.

Now, the babes were thriving and Caeide was moving well again, if not quite ready for spending several hours out in the wet and cold, on horseback and possible wrestling with Duggan and his flock. Still, as she watched the clock, she fretted more than a little, going to the window to see the rain still coming down, seeing it form ice along the sills.

"Ease off, girl, they'll be back soon as they can be," Maude scolded her gently. They all knew both men were quite capable, now both proficient on horseback and knowledgeable about the lay of the land on and around Haven. Still, she worried, and if they'd admit it to themselves only in a quick sideways glance, they worried as well. Things could happen, even to a capable person, and they'd not know until, unless a call for help came through on the small radios they each carried when out and about, and with the weather being what it was, and the cliffs around, that wasn't always a certainty either.

"Perhaps we'd better . . ." to be interruped by Marisol.

"Caeide girl, the herbs for the tea for his lungs are ready and steeping; the creams laid out and warming for you to use on his joints, his skin later, with the more general one laid out for Andrew as well to use on any skin exposed to this weather. We've hot water aplenty, with more waiting in the boiler. You yourself laid out clean warm clothes for them to change into, and you made all ready in the horse barn with feed and water and fresh straw and fresh blankets so it'll take them no time down there once they get in. We've done what we can . . ." and with that they heard the footsteps on the wooden porch, the rising wind having hidden their approach, and turned to greet two cold, wet, tired men, the house, the women reaching out to enfold them, small children gathered around them, hugging their legs, chattering to them about the day's events.

"Here now, back up, you're getting your things wet, and these two need to go up and get into something warmer and less wet," came from Caeide. She paid no attention to her own words, of course, giving a fierce hug to each of her men, a touch to their cold cheeks, her head laid against each of theirs for a moment. They both laughed, and hurried out and then stiffly up the stairs.

By the time they were stripped, Andrew having to help Peter with the fastenings seeing as how his hands had started seizing up already from the exposure, taking their cold bodies covered with goose bumps into the hot shower which they shared, for once not taking time to dally, Andrew glanced down at Peter and giggled, "you don't think that's permanent, do you?" to be answered by a growl.

"Well, don't look like you're in any position to talk, Andrew luv; Caeide sees us like this, she might throw us both back and go looking elsewhere," knowing full well that wasn't going to happen. He heard the quiet laugh and turned, to see the woman in question standing in the doorway, looking her fill, grinning at them, somehow not looking in the least bit like she was ready to 'throw them back', her gaze warming them equally as well as that hot water was doing.

"Well, we'll see if we can't do something to get things back to normal a bit later, perhaps, after dinner and bedtime stories??" And they all three laughed, but with just a bit of anticipation. She'd not joined them since well before the babes were born, what with the way the babes were laying this time and all, and even since then only for sleep, and they were all more than a bit ready for things to get back to the same warm sharing they had become so accustomed to.

They made their way back to the kitchen, where a hot meal awaited them, something Peter could handle not too awkwardly even with his hands, Maude knowing how they'd likely to be after this day. So it was a rich thick stew needing only a large spoon rather than something needing a knife and fork, hot soda biscuits already split and buttered, children tucked in between where an adult could be at close hand to help where needed, babes in the cradles off to the side. They ate, soaked in the warmth, both from the big stove and their loved ones around them. Peter sipped his special tea, laced with just a drop of whiskey and honey.

Caeide looked at them both, Andrew with his eyes now bright and cheerful again, telling the amusing-in-retrospect story of rounding up Duggan and his ladies, Duggan making that last sneaky attempt to starting it all over again, Peter watching and listening, that smile on his lips, in his eyes. That smile, the one that used to rest only as a shadow at the back of his eyes, and that only rarely, now becoming the one most seen on his scarred and worn, but still handsome face, to her his ever-handsome face.

{"I'll have to write Cally, to tell her that what I'd hoped for so long ago, it's come; that smile, it's now the one you see more than any of the others; the quest of a lifetime, a battle well-fought, finally won."}

And after the bedtime stories, after the tucking ins and goodnight hugs and kisses, after the babes were eased, fast asleep, into their cradles in the nursery adjoining her room, Caeide took the time to rub the soothing creme into Andrew's hands and onto his face and onto his ears, that last to the accompanyment of his giggling protests, and Andrew squinching up his nose when Peter teasingly dabbed an extra bit right on the tip of that pert nose. Then, they both, Andrew and Caeide, used the special cremes on Peter, working and easing his aching and stiffened hands and feet and deciding to recreate that 'pleasant thought' he'd had many a time after he first experienced it, that massaging and easing taking in every inch from shoulders down to his feet and back again. And sometime at the ending of that, there was the beginning of something else, something sweet and tender and gentle, and then more urgent and demanding, complete with soft gasps and moans and whimpers, ending in groans and sighs of satisfaction and completion.

And when she moved to turn down the light after she'd checked on the babes once more, she looked down at both of them, her loves, to see that smile again in Peter's eyes and on his lips, and tears came to her own eyes, as she saw that smile now reflected on Andrew's face as well. {"I wonder, if I looked into a mirror right now, whether I'd see that smile as well,"} she mused, thinking she most likely would. She turned down the light, slid into the bed, them moving to bring her close and tight against them, and they slept, those smiles lingering on their contented faces.


End file.
